


Stitching

by K_dAzrael



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-26
Updated: 2010-08-26
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_dAzrael/pseuds/K_dAzrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Dami are BFFs. Ok, not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stitching

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Morrisonian Jason Todd incarnation, complete with red hair and a certain amount of crazy.
> 
> A/N: I've seen a few fics where it's stated that Jason was the one that shot Damian in the spine – that was actually the Flamingo. This is just a preface to me saying that I think there's a possibility that those two would actually get along (as resident Tim-hating cranky-asses).

  
Todd came back to them in the end, which was evidently something the other 'Batfamily' members had not expected.

For reasons Damian had never fully understood, his father, Grayson and Drake divided the 'good' from the 'bad' simply by designating those who kill as the latter. Damian had always thought this to be a clumsy and ineffective way of going about the mission – to him, killing was simply a choice, and sometimes it was a necessary one. Todd had been unhinged when they first encountered him as Red Hood – that much was clear – but Damian hadn't argued with his methods.

Todd was missing presumed dead after the incident with the Flamingo, but everyone in crime-fighting knows that if you don't find a body, it's because they got away. Sure enough, Red Hood turned up with the Suicide Squad, ditching the cape and fish-bowl for the jeans and domino of old – apparently having downgraded from theatrical crazy of the supervillains to the bitter and resigned crazy of regular vigilantes.

He did his time with Waller's outfit, managed not to die again and eventually earned his government pardon. The reformed Red Hood drifted back to Gotham and went solo in his non-lethal form for a few months, then the Bat brought him home.

Damian wasn't able to witness that particular showdown, where his father and Todd had some sort of battle of wills in the cave – Grayson dragged Damian upstairs and made him help Pennyworth with the spring cleaning. Damian's outraged protests were (as usual) drowned out by Grayson being infuriatingly cheerful as he went about climbing up the wood panelling to reach dusty alcoves, chattering about how it reminded him of the way everyone chipped in when he was in the circus.

This 'family' _was_ a circus, Damian realised. This was why Grayson was so at home in the chaos and it didn't bother him that no-one was actually related to him.

*~*~*

So, Todd was one of their merry troupe again. Drake _hated_ it, which naturally gave Damian a great deal of private satisfaction. Red Hood used their technology and comm links, but he didn't live at the manor, preferring to keep private accommodation in some god-forsaken tenement out near Crime Alley.

At first Damian was content to watch him from a distance. He had no bone to pick with Todd – after all, Todd had never tried to steal his inheritance (Drake), have him listed as a threat to security (Drake), or break his nose (also Drake). As far as Damian was concerned, Todd's worst crime was amateurish knot-tying.

He did make an intriguing subject for observation, though. Damian found it interesting that Todd was tolerated despite being brash, irreverent and largely uncooperative. This seemed to go against what his father, Grayson and Drake were always spouting about teamwork and discipline and so on. Damian began to think that maybe there was a place for him in his father's world after all, and that he wouldn't have to pave over his own personality with sunshine and smiles just to gain acceptance.

Damian liked that Todd made no effort to fit in visually, either. He favoured motorcycle leathers and denim over armoured costumes and capes. He referred to Grayson and Drake as 'the pretty boys' with an air of derision, calling attention to his own acne-scarred skin and wavy red hair. He had one unruly white tuft at the front that didn't curl like the rest of it and Damian found himself staring fixedly at it whenever Todd spoke.

The most interesting thing that Damian had observed was that Pennyworth – always the litmus test of who was to be trusted – displayed an absurd partiality for Todd. 'Master Jason' was always being brought cookies in the cave and given care packages to take back to his apartment. Damian was pretty sure he saw Pennyworth's eyes moistening when Todd gave him a scarf for his birthday.

*~*~*

The first time the two of them interacted in any meaningful way, Damian was alone in the cave working on the hydraulics of a new batmobile model. He didn't pay much attention when he heard the roar of a motorbike engine, thinking it was Drake's Ducati. Then someone deactivated the locks and came through from the parking garage. From his position below the car's undercarriage, Damian tilted his head and listened: the steps were shuffling and unsteady.

Damian pushed back the dolly to get out from under the car, which was up on blocks. Todd was standing – or rather, slumping – against the console, typing something into the keyboard with one arm hanging stiffly at his side. A steady drip, drip of blood was coming from his fingertips.

"You're about to pass out," Damian said, noting his pallor. "And you're getting blood on the floor."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll call Al and ask me to patch me up in a minute."

"He's out." Damian debated minding his own business and getting back to the car. He had no objection to Todd bleeding to death if that was what he was determined to do, but he thought the butler might not forgive him for that, and he had no wish to be on the receiving end of one of Pennyworth's 'I am deeply disappointed in you, young man' lectures.

"Medical bay," Damian said, pointing with an index finger. "_Now_."

"Kind of bossy, aren't ya?" Todd looked amused as he took himself over to one of the examination tables and sat down. Despite his demeanor, his face was drawn tight with pain. "Dammit, I guess the adrenaline wore off. Didn't even realise the guy tagged me until I was halfway here."

Damian snapped on a pair of latex gloves and went to the in-house blood storage unit to get a pack of Todd's type O+ (he was listed on the inside of the door along with the rest of the cave's habitual users). Todd was shrugging painfully out of the remains of his motorcycle jacket. Damian rolled up the sleeve on Todd's good arm and slipped the needle in.

"Ow! Careful with that, Nurse Ratched!"

"If you'd been careful in the first place, this wouldn't have happened."

"There were like... ten guys!"

"Tt. Lie back." Damian hung the bag on a drip stand and attached the tubing to the I.V. He then took a pair of scissors and began cutting the bloody shirt fabric away from the wound on Todd's other arm. It was a knife slash, clean but deep. He would have to stitch up layers of muscle as well as skin, and a local anesthetic would be advisable – however, only Pennyworth knew the codes to the painkiller cabinet. "This will hurt," he said.

"Yeah, I can take it. I've had worse."

Damian cleaned the wound and handed him a wad of sterile gauze. "Keep pressure on it while I find the suture set."

While he worked on the stitching, Todd looked away, carefully controlling his breathing. When Damian reached the final, skin layer, Todd let out a shaky breath and managed, conversationally: "Hey, Dick told me something funny the other day. He said a while back, when Bruce was still gone, you went after the Joker with a crowbar."

"Yeah," a smile crept onto Damian's face.

"Were you going to kill him with it?"

"No. I promised my father I wouldn't do that anymore. I was thinking more like 'permanent vegetative state'."

"Heh. You know kid, in my book you're alright."

Damian's lip quirked, but he continued to focus on the stitching.

"So, how's your mom?"

Damian drew his eyebrows together. "I really wouldn't know. We don't speak anymore."

"Yeah, how come?"

"She attempted to bring me into line by putting a chip in my spine and having Deathstroke control me as a puppet. Together they tried to make me assassinate Grayson. When that failed she declared me an enemy of the House of al Ghul."

Todd let out a low whistle. "Families, huh? You know... I knew your mother a little bit. She helped me out once."

"The Lazarus pit... yes."

"People say she's all bad, but I don't think that's true."

"The al Ghuls would say that 'good' and 'bad' are meaningless terms. There is only power or weakness, control or helplessness."

"But you don't believe that."

"Who says I don't?"

"Your actions do. If you were really amoral, you wouldn't have chosen your dad's side."

"I could say the same about you, Todd."

"True," he grinned. "Hey Damian, I know you like to do that whole distancing thing by calling people by their last names, but I think it'd be cool for you to break out 'Jason' with me every once in a while. It'd piss off Timmy, for a start."

Damian concentrated on knotting his final suture. "I'll consider it."


End file.
